


Valentines Gift

by Delirious21



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Drabble, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Predacons Rising (Prime Movie), Sweet, Thoughtful Miko, Valentines, lonely Ratchet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25024858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delirious21/pseuds/Delirious21
Summary: Ratchet missed Optimus every waking moment of his life, but he never expected to be comforted by the wildest of Team Prime's old human companions. Miko and the other children (who weren't really children any more) had made the Bots promise to come visit for every human holiday, and apparently Valentines Day wasn't something Bumblebee fever-dreamed.
Relationships: Optimus Prime/Ratchet
Comments: 18
Kudos: 58





	Valentines Gift

He wasn’t alone. Far from it, really. Yet, as he watched Miko dole out sweets and hand-made cards, Ratchet couldn’t ignore the ache in his spark, the corroding burn of loneliness that, for centuries, only Optimus was able to stop. But the Prime was gone, lost in a flurry of invigorated lives, thousands of sparks flowering from his sacrifice. 

Ratchet set down his engex (it was too bitter) and joined Ultra Magnus on the edge of their old base. They stood in companionable quiet and watched the others. It was a miracle, June had called it, that everyone from Team Prime was there. And for such a miniscule human holiday. Miko had grown since Bulkhead and Wheeljack saw her last, a year or so ago. No one got back as often as they wanted. Needless to say, Miko strut around, boasting her growth spurt while the old wreckers crooned over her. They were like a pair of grandmothers, Ratchet thought. For a moment, he imagined saying it aloud, joking, and a warm servo landing on his shoulder and he’d look up into comforting, bemused blue optics. 

He blinked and watched June lean her head on Fowler’s shoulder. They were focused on Jack, talking about his new government-issued job, something in human relations, and didn’t notice Ratchet. Bumblebee and Smokescreen occupied themselves by crouching on the base floor and racing small remote controlled cars with Raf. Arcee hovered by the sweets table, a gentleness to her faceplates that Ratchet hadn’t seen in years. 

Somehow, Miko managed to ditch her entourage and snuck up on Ratchet and Magnus. She waved her arms to try and grab his attention. “Hey, down here!” she called. 

June said puberty would change Miko, but nothing was as drastic as the way she regarded Ratchet. Her eyes held something, a new light, or maybe a shadow, and she peered up at him with pensive, questioning eyes. He was used to it by then, but she never failed to remind him of Orion Pax, as odd as that connection would have seemed in her earlier years. 

Miko struggled to hold up a large parcel wrapped in pink and red heart-covered paper. “Don’t think I forgot you,” she said. As if on cue, Ultra Magnus muttered an excuse and wandered off. 

Ratchet eyed her, vaguely suspicious, but he knelt and held out a servo. Delicately, he unwrapped the gift. Cheap paper cleared and scattered about his pedes, Ratchet arched an optic ridge. 

Miko chuckled at the framed cardboard. “It’s upside down,” she said and reached out to flip it over. 

Ratchet, for a moment, forgot how to think. He was enraptured in the image that peered up at him with as much vibrant life as if the mech were standing right in front of him. Optimus’ smile always loosened the tired lines around his optics, and the blues of his irises sparkled in the Nevada sun. Optimus beamed at the camera, and now at Ratchet, with all the tenderness in the universe, and his helm was tilted ever so slightly, as if he’d just heard one of Raf’s math jokes. They always did amuse him. 

A broken sob lodged itself in Ratchet’s throat and, not for the first time, he was worried he would cry in front of the team. He clenched his jaw and stared at the ceiling for a moment. 

Miko patted his servo, attempting consoling. “I found it on my old phone,” she explained. The party music was a pleasant backdrop for her voice. “I made a bet with Jack, to see who could get the better picture of Op— him. And I didn’t know if you had anything like it, so. . . “

Ratchet reset his voicebox. “Only my memory,” he admitted. “Thank you, Miko.”

Optimus would have winced at the idea of hanging a portrait of himself in the room they used to share, but Ratchet proudly hung it above the berth. Whenever he walked through the door, Optimus was the first thing he saw and the last thing he saw before he slept. 


End file.
